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What treasures Google can bring!


Ah hoy hoy!

So, one day at work I finished reading Diary. Being that I am overpaid for doing nothing, I figure I'll do some personal research. Firing up the grand ship Internet Explorer, the brainchild of the geek lord Gates, I type into the alter of Google. The infinite reach of the Gods of Google reviewed my query of "Waytansea Island." After careful deliberation, I sort out their results (actually it was the first to come up) to the most relevant mention of the phrase in intarweb history.

Lo and Behold, it was The Cult. It's draw was immediate, my eyes fixated and my brain addicted. Like a junkie jonesing for a fix to satiate my desire of knowledge and a place to observe humanity in new environments that wouldn't crush my puny net soul with outbursts of "pwned" by the l337 kiddies sitting at their glowing thrones being masters of their immediate universe.

I slowly considered my position in this port of electronic calling. Do I simply walk through every day, a faceless number watching the movements of those who replace their numbers with names? Or do I give myself a name and throw myself at the mercy of this mysterious Cult? (In all truth I was waiting for some spare cash in my bank account to pre-pay a year)

So I throw myself at your mercy. Please be gentle. All I ask is just use at least a tiny dab of lube.